


What Good is Honor When You're Starving?

by Jacepens



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon Era, Frottage, M/M, Maybe I swear I’m so bad at distinguishing, Porn With Plot, Smut, Vampire Bites, Vampire Molly House, Vampire Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, falling in love?, whatever that is I guess its this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacepens/pseuds/Jacepens
Summary: George should have run. That would be the smart, sensible thing todo. To leave this place and never look back, but Lafayette demands his attention. And George readily gives, would give the vampire his last breath just for one more bite.
Relationships: Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/George Washington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	What Good is Honor When You're Starving?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormtrooperinclogs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormtrooperinclogs/gifts).



> _What good is honor when you're starving? ~ Yiddish Proverb_
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!! And an extra Happy Valentine’s to the lovely stromtrooperinclogs who I had the great pleasure of writing this for <3

There are a million reasons to walk out that door the moment he steps inside and discovers a life he’s only heard of in passing. There are a million thoughts racing through his mind as he takes in the gaudy decor, the goblets of red liquid, the smiling, giggling people, and of course - the vampires in all their glory. The proudly showcased fangs, unmatchable strength, and tricks that had to be hidden outside this door.

He almost walks out, he _does._ His foot is out the door and he _almost_ does not become a man consumed by one burning desire and one particular vampire with an addictive, dangerous grin. But then the vampire grabs his arm, urging him inside and out of the cold until George is face to face with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

“Do not tell me I have never seen you before,” the vampire gasps, strangely cold hand enveloping his arm. 

George cannot help but stare. At his hair, curly and soft, that shines just right under the low candlelight. At his eyes, dark and glittering, at his nose, cheeks, even his perfectly cut and shaped jaw. He is too stunning and George is caught in his grasp, staring into his eyes.

“What?” George stumbles.

“If you are new then that means you do not have a favorite yet,” the vampire purrs, lips revealing white, smooth teeth. “Might I…” the beauty trails off, biting down on his lip. George gawks. “Offer you a conversation, sir?” George does not trust his tongue gone dry with nerves, so he nods and allows himself to be guided by the beautiful vampire.

The man pulls him past the front room and into a slightly less crowded space before bringing him down onto the only couch not occupied by… an eager pair. Once he is set down, he still cannot take his eyes off the vampire. If anyone else had approached him, he would have left. This is what George repeats in his head. But they did not. This beauty did instead and George is trapped in his spider web of beauty and wide grins.

His attractive face comes a little closer and a gasp leaps from George’s mouth. “Do you know what it is we do here?” the vampire grins, all inviting flirtation.

George cannot help but pull back, enticed but nervous from the proximity. Of course, why else would he be here? If not to satiate that damned, desperate curiosity that brought him inside in the first place. 

“Only through word of mouth.”

The vampire inhales sharply. “Ah- you have never done this before? Not even in a natural situation?” Is the vampire blushing?

“No.”

“Then you are telling me,” he shifts closer to George, tepid breath curling down his neck, “that you do not know the delights a vampire's bite can bring under the right… influence?” George hears that delighted uptick in the vampire’s voice as his breath continues to ghost the sensitive skin now raised with goosebumps. 

George flushes bright red, the proximity to his neck somehow such a heavenly feeling. “I do not,” he shudders.

The vampire yanks himself away from his neck, snapping back as if burned. His chest is heaving greatly and he quickly goes to cover his mouth with his hand, wiping drool with the back while continually shifting back and forth on his seat. “M- My apologies,” he stammers out, “I- It is only- I have only ever heard stories of how wonderful virgins taste,” he gawks. 

George should have run. That would be the smart, sensible thing to do. But the way the words came out so ragged, so breathless, the way his eyes looked so gorgeous with dilated, glittering pupils. Everything about this man aroused him far more than it should.

“What is your name?” George gulps.

“Joseph,” the vampire replies, still panting and squirming where he sat. He clears his throat, “And what might I call you?”

“George.”

Gripping the couch while sorting through his rapid thoughts, Joseph stammers, “If- we- I need to go over the specifics with you.”

“Of course,” George slowly nods, eyes glued to Joseph’s blushing cheeks.

Joseph moves himself a little further away and takes a deep breath to further compose himself. “Yes,” he nods sharply. “We vampires work here because it’s a safe and simple way for us to get the blood we need without harming humans. Only vampires with the ability to seduce and make the bite a satisfying experience are employed here. Every vampire is thoroughly tested and over the age of fifty. Believe me, you do not want a fledgling,” he giggled, “ _and_ , you can feel safe in knowing no dangerous vampire can be let inside without being invited in,” he grins at him. George grins back. “Sexual fulfillment is not expected, nor should it be demanded from either party, but as you’re well aware we have no rules against agreeing parties.” His eyes flitted to the pair still moaning on the couch. 

“You can feel further assured that every human who leaves here is tested to make sure they have not been drained beyond the limit. If they have been, or if that human makes a single accusation of unwelcomed assault, the vampire is not allowed back here. Let me think…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, almost bringing George to curse, heat creeping up his spine. Surely this is a well-rehearsed script, Joseph must have known it by heart now. His pause is just a flirtatious ruse, but George can not deny how greatly it affects him.

“You can back out at any time, a simple stop or no is all you need, and oh! There is the matter of payment of course,” he smirks, and George needs to shift a bit awkwardly, far too stirred by the mischievous glint in his eye. “We ask for a minimum of 5 shillings, but you needn’t be afraid to give more if you leave quite happy.” His smirk grows wider as does that glint in his eye. If he wasn’t just a little afraid of Joseph, George would lean forward and touch him. Pass gentle fingertips over his smooth skin and just - inhale, feeling Joseph quietly shudder beside him. 

“Do you have any questions?”

George is snapped out of his fantasy. Joseph seems to be done with his recital, and it dawns on him that he is now one step closer to learning what is so sublime about a vampire's deadly, pleasuring bite. Then his eyes drift one last time to the settings around him and he grimaces, “Is there not a more private place for these things?”

Joseph giggles, a most delightful sound. “That would be upstairs, yes. But a room there costs more.”

“I will pay,” he jumps, a little too eagerly. Joseph does not seem to mind, in fact, it only seems to excite him more as that squirm returns.

He tilts his head delicately and George admires the way his hair spills down past a very open and _very_ transparent blouse. “Am I to assume you would like to go upstairs with me then, sir?” And here is his chance. His chance to say: no, I was only curious, but this is not for me. His chance to not fall down the addictive road that is this gorgeous creature before him. But his heartbeat speeds up, his tongue goes dry, and Joseph is _so_ tempting. All delicate lines and hard muscle - the exact kind that has appealed to him for far longer than he’d like to admit.

He lets out a hoarse, “yes.” And there it is. The truth. 

Joseph is dragging him up the stairs, and pulling him into a small room with a decently sized bed before George can stop to consider his actions.

George plops onto the bed, suddenly becoming very nervous now that he has actually _agreed_ to this. Admitted: _yes, this is what I want._

Joseph is not even looking at him when he states, “you are nervous.” He shakes his head while turning around. “It’s not good to be nervous. It makes it less fun for me and you.” He slides next to him on the bed. “Are you sure there is nothing else you’d like to ask me?” He drops his flirtatious exterior and George finds that like this, Joseph appears much more genuine. There is just something about the way he casually stoops his shoulders a little and shuffles his feet together on the ground. He seems to be quite soft, for lack of a better word, and George begins to trust the vampire.

“Will it hurt?” he almost whispers.

Joseph stares into his eyes for a long moment. “It will sting. Only for a short moment, and nothing worse than the feeling of a small cut, but I am quite good at making all the pain disappear,” he purrs, allowing himself closer and that coy air is back again. Joseph leans down a little bit and simply allows his breath to ghost his neck. George’s next breath is choked as he shudders and leans a little closer to the intoxicating feeling. There is a new energy coursing through him, a buzzing of excitement and nerves not unlike the feeling one gets just before the first gun is fired on a battlefield. It’s a feeling George has always craved since his first taste of it.

“Let’s get more comfortable,” Joseph says, scooting back to sit in the center of the bed. “How should you like to have me, sir?”

George blushes furiously at the inquiry worded in such a way. “What- whatever is best,” he chokes out.

Joseph scoots back until he can lounge against the headboard. He beckons him closer with a single tilt of his head and George is scrambling to get closer.

Joseph turns him around, with lithe fingers and wide palms, so he can rest his heels and bent knees at George’s sides while he himself lays against the vampire’s slight frame.

“Is this comfortable?” the vampire asks softly. George shifts a little, adjusting himself to remove that ache already throbbing in his back. The six years in a war not meant for him would always deny him the luxury of being perfectly comfortable.

“Now I am,” he agrees. He hears Joseph let out a shaky breath before he feels his cold fingers press to his neck and he realizes they were searching - searching for the best place to bite. The cold juxtaposed so harshly to his neck, red with blush, that it takes all his strength to suppress the great shudder they bring forth. The fingers stop their search and press down for a moment, seemingly satisfied by what they find.

“I will not begin until you tell me to,” Joseph breathes behind him, and George feels his nerves alight at the sound of his voice. Raspy and with a slight lisp that was certainly not there before and an unmistakable hunger that made him burn and terrified all at once. 

“Shhhh,” Joseph soothes, running his hand down his chest. “There is nothing to be afraid of George.” His hand skirts down to his stomach and George arches into the touch. “I promise you, I will leave you feeling _very_ satisfied.” George can hear the smirk in his voice as his own chest begins to heat. “You are so handsome, I am already inclined to offer you more, should you desire it.” His teeth - no, dear God, his _fangs_ \- nip at his ear and turn him into a shuddering mess, heat twisting in his gut.

“That’s _much_ better,” he growls.

“ _Now,_ ” George gasps, the heat from Joseph’s _everything,_ his hands, his voice, his _fangs,_ are making him too eager. There is no better moment to feel that sting, that pleasure described to him as the most irresistible and hedonistic bliss he will ever know.

Joseph does not hesitate.

George does not feel the slightest bit of pain when the vampire’s teeth sink into his neck. He feels a calm settle through him, steady his heartbeat, and make him slump in relaxation. He feels secured by the unrelenting pressure on his neck. It is indeed a strange thing to _feel_ the way Joseph swallows and drinks from him, but something about the sensation is like a comforting embrace after years of not knowing what touch can feel like. George wonders, as his eyes flutter shut and his mind drifts to tranquility, if Joseph is only a flirtatious brag who is not so skilled at bringing arousal with his bite as he claims. Despite it all, George cannot complain over the misunderstanding as the calm is one of the most peaceful he has felt in a long while.

And then the calming pressure turns into a new feeling entirely. Joseph bites down harder and George is trembling in his hold, thrashing and throwing his head back to allow him better access. His body clenches and a thrilling fire spreads from his neck all the way down to his toes. He has never felt such a full-bodied desire all at once, but it is already the most satisfying experience of his life. A fresh sweat breaks out across his neck and he is forced to swallow down his moans, shaking so hard he fears he’ll fall apart.

Every time he feels the man drink and gulp, it is like he is leaving behind hot spikes of pleasure in place of the blood he is taking from him.

He is too disoriented and fuzzy with warmth to realize when Joseph is no longer latched to his neck. There is a pleasing buzz just swimming in his body that dulls out everything but hot need in a way not even alcohol could touch.

“Are you enjoying yourself, sir?”

George does not realize he is breathless until he begins to speak. “Yes,” he gasps.

“I can tell,” Joseph purrs, his hand sliding down to cup his stiffening cock. George groans, hips bucking up into the cold hand, so tempting against where he needs it most. He hears the man chuckle.

“You are so very eager.” His cold fingers slide down his punctured neck and produce quivering muscles in their path. “But I have not yet had my final taste of you, George,” he whispers against his ear.

“ _Joseph-”_ he cannot finish whatever plea he was going to stammer as those fangs are back again on the other side of his neck now.

He sighs, moaning and arching his neck to entice Joseph to take more than his fair share. He does not _care_ if it is how he will find death, he needs this vampire to give him the sweetest end possible and drink it all from him until he is left a sated husk of a man.

Joseph moans against him before pulling away, panting and shaking worse than George. 

“Oh, _sir…_ ” he moans, the bravado he carried before seemingly gone. “Please, might I touch you? Might you touch me?”

“Yes, yes,” he pants, gulping down air like he cannot get enough of it when it is really _Joseph_ he needs more than anything else.

Joseph wiggles his way out from behind him to sit before him, allowing George to admire his dark eyes and bloody teeth. George reaches out to anchor his hand in his soft hair and yank him closer into a kiss. Joseph whines, gripping onto his clothes and urgently setting himself in George’s lap, the new pressure causing him to hiss against Joseph’s soft lips. He urges his tongue past his sweet lips to the inside of the man’s mouth, and he almost withdrawals in disgust. The taste of iron, his own _blood_ , is not a thing he exactly meant or wants to taste, but mixed with Joseph, it is something that causes that heat to twist and build in his gut. And when his tongue catches against the sharp fang that injured him and brought him _so much_ delectation, he cannot stop the moan at the back of his throat.

Joseph breaks away from the kiss and stares at George in awe. “Why did you do that?” he asks, catching his breath, “why, I have never met someone willing, _wanting_ to kiss after such- such things,” he blushes. 

“What can I say?” George reaches to wrap his arm around Joseph’s lower back, “I could not resist those lips.”

“ _George_ ,” Joseph whines, voice reedy and _gorgeous_ like this. George grabs onto his hips and manages to pull him just a little closer.

“What is it, Joseph?” he teases lightly, letting his hands wander against the hem of his shirt.

“Gilbert,” the other says forcefully.

“What?”

He leans down, smirking at him, “Gilbert is my name and I want to hear you say it when I make you come.”

George gasps, his heart pounding at a new pace. He hardly has time to respond before _Gilbert_ sinks lower to situate himself between his legs. He urges them apart and George is already a desperate mess, the small touches so close to his burning need so gratifying. He is still feeling delightfully fuzzy from that bite, but hearing Gilbert say such things in that low voice, so flirtatious and promising, that George is rendered powerless.

Gilbert lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat that pulls George’s attention to the scowl on his face. 

“Is something wrong?”

“It is my damn fangs,” he spits, “I am still too wanting for them to leave me,” he growls and pouts again and it leaves George feeling far hotter than such a sound should leave him feeling. 

He brings his hand down to cup Gilbert’s chin. “We can find something else to do,” he smiles and Lafayette is scrambling into his lap again.

“Like what?” He leans forward, eager energy pouring from him.

“How about, you let me undress you, and then I shall answer your question?” He runs his hands down Gilbert’s back and smiles when he feels him shudder.

“Only if you let me do the same to you.”

George leans up to give Gilbert a kiss, but stops just short of his lips, already parted.

“Who am I to deny a vampire’s request?” George grins.

Gilbert whines and crashes his lips against him, so needy he begins to roll his hips in search of friction. The feeling of Gilbert grinding against him leaves him breathless and torrid, gasping for air against his mouth in between every kiss.

Spurred by the action, he grabs a hold of Gilbert and tosses him down on the bed, not waiting a second to yank the nearly transparent shirt from over his hand and quickly working his breeches down and over his stocking-clad feet. Gilbert returns again and again for more kisses, each one driving his need for the vampire to the point of madness. Pure, lustful madness like he has never known in all his years on earth.

He hardly even realizes when Gilbert has done the same to him, only gasping and shivering when he feels cool hands running against his bare chest and stomach. They do not explore or take their time, no, Gilbert demands and grips, sharp nails digging into his skin. 

Restlessness has made its home in his skin and George is pressing down to wedge his thigh between Gilbert’s parting legs. He finally ceases his kisses as he throws his head back with a sonorous cry that makes George drop lower so he could press his burning erection to his pelvis.

They both groan in unison at the feeling, and Gilbert, still more impatient than himself, begins rolling his hips eagerly and George is forced to mimic his motion - chase the burning fire this vampire ignited within him. 

His foggy mind realizes that this in itself will not be enough to bring him to his end and he readjusts their bodies, gently urging Gilbert’s hips to stay down. He adjusts them so this time, when he lowers himself down, his cock presses flush against Gilbert’s. Both men groan obscenely loud, and George quickly starts rutting against Gilbert, grateful that they seemed to be slick enough for this to not be a most unpleasant ordeal. 

This new position becomes too much too quickly; Gilbert’s whines and moans, the feeling of his slick cock sliding against his and it’s _so_ hot and providing the most _magnificent_ friction, Gilbert’s own muscular and soft body writhing and thrusting against him. _Everything_ about Gilbert is perfect in the way no woman could ever be. The toned shape of his wide shoulders, the perfect angle of his small hips, the way his hands were soft but _hot_ and rough in the way George never knew he needed until they were all over him.

“ _Please, please, George! I am so close I just need-_ ” He does not get to finish his plea, the sentence stopped by the most beautiful cry George has ever heard. It is melodious and loud and turns to ragged whimpers that steal the air from George’s lungs.

He drives himself against Gilbert more roughly than he has all night, gripping his hips so hard he knew it would leave bruises. He tries to adjust himself for the perfect angle, the perfect cut of Gilbert to release against, and all the while the vampire is pleading in his ear.

“ _Please,_ George, oh please, I need you to finish for me,” he mewls, bringing his lips to his neck. George’s blood goes cold when Gilbert presses a kiss while dragging his tongue across the crimson puncture wound in his neck. And that is his undoing.

“ _Gilbert_ ,” he groans into his shoulder.

Every muscle in his body tenses, releasing and shaking as he comes against Gilbert’s flawless skin, moaning and whimpering at each relieving pulse.

Gilbert’s hands wrap around his back and soothe him, tenderly smoothing out the last bit of tension in him. George sags against the vampire, tired and sated, but buzzing with gratification.

“I do believe that was one of the best sexual experiences of my life, George.” Gilbert smiles up at him and the look, slack and bright, makes his heart flip. “And you did not even seat yourself inside me,” he giggles, always mischievous. George blushes at the statement, previously unaware such a thing was possible.

Confidence and need grip his heart as he purrs out: “Then perhaps I shall have to do so next time.” 

“ _Vous le ferez mille fois une fois que je vous ferai mien,”_ Gilbert hums.

“What did you say?”

“I am more than capable of saying so in English should I want to,” he teases.

“But this does not answer my inquiry.” George begins peppering kisses to Gilbert’s collarbone, regretful he did not worship the perfect structure before.

“Which was?” he teased, sinking his head back with a sigh to give George better access.

“Will we do this again?”

Gilbert laughs, “I do not just let a man like you walk out with no intentions of having him once more and as many times as he likes until he is always hard and ready to please me.”

George blanches, heart beating fast and warmth rising to his cheeks. He regains his footing and drags his teeth over Gilbert’s neck, bringing forth a whine. “And how many men have you done this to?”

“None. I’m afraid it’s a brand new idea,” he smirks.

George suddenly bites down on Gilbert’s neck, right over where he did so on himself. He cries out and arches beautifully against him. “I believe that your ideas will do you more trouble than good, Gilbert.”

“And will you do something about it?” he gasps, firm and bold attitude slipping as his words come out like a plea.

“I am not often inclined to forgive petulant boys.” And _oh_ the way Gilbert’s eyes grow wide, the way he blushes so bright even his neck is red, the way he whimpers. Debauched and pleading - he is _begging -_ begging for George to right his wrong. 

“Gilbert du motier, de Lafayette.”

“What?”

“My name. My full name, well enough of it. I need you to have it.”

“Wouldn’t your home do me more good?” he purrs.

“Oh, George,” Lafayette hums, “addiction to a vampire’s seductive bite is all too real, and if you were to come to me in the middle of night and beg for me to have you once more, to drain you of your last essence - I would be unable to say no.”

“I thought there was no harm if you can control yourself.”

“You need time to recover, George. And…” he trails off, fidgeting a bit beneath him.

“Yes?”

Gilbert tilts his head and gazes at him through hooded eyes. “Yours is the sweetest blood I have ever drunk, and if you begged me to drink from you I would be powerless to stop myself from the need to have every last drop of you.”

George is stunned silent, the familiar blend of fear and want spurring him to retreat from the vampire, but not so far away Gilbert would fear he is unwanted.

“Then, I suppose I shall have to wait for our next meeting?”

Gilbert nods. “But it needn’t be here,” he rushes out, “I mean- I will- I wish for this to happen for _us_ and not because I am here.” He continues to fidget and pull himself up to sit and distance himself from George. “I am sorry, sir- I should not have-” George surges forward to silence his worries with a kiss.

“I should very much like that, Gilbert.”

His eyes light up, before settling into that sinful playfulness he is already too enamored with. “Then I shall come for you when you are ready, George.”

“Washington. George Washington,” he beams.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, sir,” he simpers.

“And you as well, Lafayette.”

**_At a week’s end..._ **

George is desperate. There is a burning need that has lodged itself deep under his skin that no amount of nights with Martha can satisfy or cure.

It is annoying, it is debilitating, and Gilbert has not returned to him.

The day after he returned to his temporary home - they had been visiting friends and old colleagues for a week by then - he was guilty. It weighed like a pit in his stomach and, every time he looked at Martha, he was ashamed of himself. He knew she did not mind how he spent his nights, their bond was never one of true love, but he did _love_ Martha. And she loved him enough to not question the marks on his neck. 

But unfortunately, it only took a few days for the need to return.

He thinks of Lafayette at nearly every waking moment. The way it felt to be drunk from, heat replacing what Gilbert took and turning rational thoughts to pleasing buzzes. He needs it again. He _needs_ Gilbert, not just his bite but his skin. He needs his arms and cold fingers grasping him. He needs his muscled and lean body arching into him and moaning, begging for more. 

But Lafayette has not returned to him.

Asking about him throughout the city does not give him any information about Gilbert or his whereabouts. He supposes he doesn’t offer his real name easily. But then, what was the point of possessing his name if he could not _find_ the damn vampire? It has been a week now! Surely, he has returned to perfect health so Gilbert should be here!

Days continue in this distressing fashion and Martha looks at him with sympathy in her eyes. She knows, and if he was in his right mind the thought would shame him, but there is no room for shame when he hungers for Lafayette like he has never hungered for anything in his life.

He goes out every single night - he must look like a madman - prowling the streets, searching every alley, market, even canals, and he cannot find Gilbert. 

It is after two weeks Lafayette appears to him. He has given up his latest nightly mission to find the man and starts the terrible walk home. His legs are shaky and he cannot see nor walk straight. One might even mistake him for a drunkard, but he is so desperate, so close to his breaking point as tears well in his eyes that he almost steps into that place again. If he could just get another bite then surely, _surely_ it would help him. No one could ever replace Gilbert, but he needs it so badly that he does not care where it comes from.

And then there is Gilbert. 

George is pushed to the nearest wall with strength far greater than his own and there are cold hands roaming down his sides, grasping at his coat and pulling him forward into a kiss. He sighs and pulls Gilbert closer to him, forgoing any pretext of a gentle kiss and surging forward with all the force and _hunger_ that had been festering for the past two weeks.

Lafayette breaks away with a grin, the one he missed so much in all its devious and coy beauty. “I see someone missed me.”

“Where the hell have you been?” George hisses, still holding him tight. Lafayette only purrs under the anger and demanding question.

“I have been around.”

“Have you been following me?”

Joseph comes a little closer until they are pressed from their chests to their knees. “Perhaps.”

“Tease,” George spits out, anger subsiding with every second he has Gilbert in his embrace. Gilbert giggles and his shoulders sink in relief. Dear God, he missed this man.

“Shall we go back to my home?” He slips his hand into George’s and is already pulling him forward.

“But I thought-”

“Or what? Do you suggest we go to where you have been living? You did not tell me you had a wife, George,” he scowls at him and George swallows.

“I- I did not think-” he begins to try and explain himself, his understanding with Martha.

“What? You did not think I had morals because I am a _vampire?_ Your pretty thing to be used?” he accuses with a sharp bite in his words.

“Gilbert, no- that is not what I-” The vampire crowds into his space again, pushes him against the brick wall, and panic begins to grip his chest as he takes quick breaths, realizing he can not break away from his impossibly strong hold.

“I do not appreciate being lied to,” he seethes, lips curling to reveal his fangs filling out to a deadly point. This is it, this is how he would die, a bloodless corpse that would leave no question as to why he died. Martha would tell the truth and what reputation he upheld would be slaughtered, no one would even attend his funeral, his home in Virginia would be neglected and torn down.

But Lafayette’s bite isn’t painful. Oh no, it is instantly forcing cries out from the back of his throat as Lafayette takes one gulp, two, three… 

George hears himself whimper as he cedes to the throbs of bliss. 

Lafayette pulls back and grins at him, all his anger resolved. He leans forward and presses a kiss to his ear. “ _That_ was for being so goddamn irresistible,” he giggles, “I am not angry, I just wanted to see what you might do.” George spits out a curse, trying to sort through his muddy thoughts, but he cannot think of a single word to say.

“Now,” Gilbert stands up straight, “would you like to follow me?”

“Yes,” he nods eagerly, body fuzzy.

Gilbert drags him through the city, and George is thankful he chooses the less populated alleyways to lead his inflamed prey to his dwelling.

George is dragged up some stairs and thrown onto a bed, the action causing his head to bounce against it and dull pain to pierce through his muddy thoughts. Gilbert unbuttons his waistcoat and throws it to the side before climbing on the bed to join him. He presses forward for more kisses, and George is again repulsed by the taste in Gilbert’s mouth, but most of all intrigued by the sharp points of his fangs that threateningly nip every so often into the kiss. George guides him down to lay Lafayette on his back and he breaks away from the soft lips, gasping for air.

“I believe I made a promise to you last time about just what we would do today,” George drawls, pitching his voice just low enough to get a reaction out of Gilbert. The vampire lets out a small sound.

“Do you know what needs to be done?” George almost feels offended by the statement, but in pure honesty, he did _not_ know what was done until Lafayette mentioned it to him and he spent his next days discreetly gathering information.

“I do,” he tilts his head to the side.

“Then I am all yours,” he grins, fangs and all. But George would not jump right into it - oh no, there was something to be said for _patience_ and the act of stringing a lover along until they _begged_ for you to give them what they needed. And that was exactly how he planned on treating Lafayette. Tit for tat, the smug thought pops into his head. 

He slowly strips Lafayette. This time, he wants to ensure he can properly appreciate each carefully plotted curve, each tiny imperfection, each quivering muscle with his lips, fingers, and tongue. Lafayette melts under all the tenderness, shifting and sighing from the delicate worship. He suddenly becomes loud and needy again once George decides to remove his breeches, slowly dragging them down and over his feet. When he lowers his head to kiss and drag his tongue down the newly exposed skin, Gilbert tries to reach down and push him to his straining cock. George simply ignores him and nips at the sensitive skin on the inner side of his thigh before soothing over it with his tongue. His skin is so cool, but it helps to keep himself from burning into a fever the louder Gilbert’s mewls and pleas become.

“ _George,_ ” he whines, like a song. “I said I am all yours, what is taking you so long? Please, you mustn't carry on this way, I am aching for you!” he cries, arching up impatiently and pouting at him.

“Now you understand my agony.” George looks up at him from between his trembling thighs. “You saw how desperate I was and yet you did nothing to help me. So, why then should I show the mercy you did not grant me?” He tries to keep his voice steady, disinterested and unaffected, but his heart beats out of control with the sob that shakes through Gilbert at those words.

He works his hands underneath his thighs to push them up until he has a good angle on Gilbert’s hole. Curiously, he presses his thumb into the little pucker, Lafayette’s stuttering breath landing on his ears. 

“George, George!” Lafayette sobs, clutching at the sheets. With that beautiful cry, George knows he cannot refuse his vampire any longer and with a final gulp of air, he surges forward to press his tongue against the vampire’s entrance, smiling at his delightful keens.

Pressing forward, George slowly works and teases the noisy vampire, testing out different flicks and angles to see what could create the most beautiful sound. It's almost like learning how to play an instrument for the first time, George thinks. Gilbert writhes and tries to press his hips down onto his tongue, but George growls and holds his hips in place with a firm palm. He laps up the man in that intimate place, greedy to taste every inch of Gilbert who _far_ too sweet on his tongue.

To Gilbert’s relief and despair, George pulls back and admires his handiwork. Inflamed by the sight of, he wets one finger on his tongue and reaches down to press a single knuckle inside. Lafayette wails, startled but quickly melting into the exploratory touch. 

“Gilbert, where’s your oil?”

Lafayette moans, spine arching before he answers, “ _C'est dans le tiroir ici.”_

George chuckles, patting the vampire’s flank to spur his eyelids to flutter open. “I thought that you were more than capable of speaking in English,” he teases.

“ _Merde,”_ Lafayette hisses, “The drawer.” His hand flops over to vaguely gesture at the nightstand and George realizes any further denial might do Lafayette more harm than good. 

Eagerly, George begins to coat his fingers, smearing some against Lafayette too for good measure. This time, when he presses one finger inside, he does not stop at a single knuckle. 

He watches it sink inside and admires how Gilbert arches and moans, long and drawn out, not ending until the entire is inside. George dryly swallows, his eyes unable to truly appreciate the gorgeous image when he is occupied by a greater sensation, and it stirs regret in his heart. Inside it's surprisingly hot compared to the vampire’s cool skin and tighter than he imagined he might feel, the muscles occasionally fluttering against his finger with Lafayette’s every shaky exhale. Uncertainty coils is his stomach and George becomes unsure of himself and holds his fingers perfectly still. Never having taken a man, he does not know what to wait for that might showcase Lafayette is alright and ready for more, but George waits. He waits for Gilbert to adjust, for his breaths to steady, and for that impatient scowl to surface on his face. 

George smiles sweetly at him and holds him still for a moment longer, and then slowly begins to press in and out. He grunts at the sight and feeling, watching his finger sink in and out of Gilbert who only grows more desperate. George curls the finger when it is at its deepest point and watches the scowl leave his brow. Lafayette lets out a soft _oh,_ followed by a low groan.

He presses the finger in a little harder, much faster, curling and drawing every delightful moan from Lafayette. The Frenchman is thrashing and whimpering, grinding his hips down and trying to get more of the sensation, too much and not enough. George obliges him and works the second finger inside, but does not slow the new pace he has established. 

Lafayette sputters, shaking so hard his teeth are chattering, and his moans are broken by the shudders and gasps for air. George drives hard into the place he found makes Gilbert cry the loudest and he does not relent his thrusts there for a moment, chasing his shifting hips.

Gilbert’s moans escalate higher and higher, his grip on the sheets so tight George notices him begin to rip the fabric. And then George presses his third finger inside and stops the movement entirely. 

“ _W- What- monsieur, pourquoi? S- S'il vous plaît, S’il vous plaaaît. J'étais si près,”_ he whines, voice hoarse and quiet from all his shouting and thrashing against the fingers still pressing inside him. “ _Tu es cruel.”_

George has pity on the weeping and boneless man. He leans down to kiss his slack lips. “I believe you are ready now.” And Gilbert’s eyes fly open. “How should you like to have me?” he breathes.

Lafayette smiles wide, regaining his words. “Oh George,” he growls, “I am going to sit in your lap and sink my fangs into your neck while _you,_ ” his voice pitches higher, “are going to sink inside of _me._ ”

And _oh_ the statement sends warm shivers down George’s spine to his long-forgotten need. That is _exactly_ what they need to do.

He removes his fingers from Lafayette after a quick check in to make sure it does not hurt, and gently flips them around and adjusts them so Gilbert is sitting in his lap. George adjusts himself against the headboard and Lafayette shifts a bit, drawing a gasp from George when his ass brushes against his cock. Lafayette repeats the motion and grabs onto his shoulders to lazily drag his length against the swell and his hole. 

George is ready _now._ He tilts his head demurely to the side to tempt Lafayette into biting him. The vampire smirks and grabs George’s hand to pull it down, and he wordlessly instructs him to help his cock inside.

George’s heart beats loud in his chest like a drum before a battle. The ones that evoke that fear and excitement in him, the feeling only Lafayette can mimic in his heart. The adrenaline rush he has craved ever since his first taste of battle. The moments just before were pure bliss, and the moment before Lafayette’s fangs sink into him is even more heavenly.

And _oh_ , the intense feeling of Gilbert slowly lowering himself onto his cock is one that can never be emulated by another. 

In a word it is overwhelming. To feel at the same time how Gilbert drinks and sends jolts throughout him, _especially_ down to where he guides and eases himself inside the tight heat. If he thought last time left him a spineless man, then he would have no hope now as Lafayette moans, low, against his neck and shifts his hips to move George inside him. 

The action and sound alone have George groaning and hands flying to his hips as Gilbert desperately tries to bounce on him while _still_ drinking from him. He has to hold him down as hard as he can manage through the fuzzy pleasure because, _dear God,_ that little movement alone has him careening toward his end much quicker than he’d like. 

Lafayette pulls away with a long sigh and moan. George takes in the man’s cloudy eyes, dark and half-lidded, and passes his thumb over the blush on his cheeks. Oh, Gilbert is gorgeous and George is powerless.

Slowly, Lafayette’s grin grows and George’s heart pounds in his chest. “What is wrong, George?” he breathes, “is it too much?” Lafayette giggles, his pretty grin turning into a vain smirk. And, _dear God_ , that is gorgeous too.

He snaps his hips up and knocks the breath out of the vampire. Gilbert slumps forward, wraps his arms limply around him, and whimpers against his ear like he did not even mean to, “ _merde, tu es si grand_.” George can’t help but chuckle.

“Is that right?” He thrusts up into Lafayette again, drawing a broken whimper out this time. His nails dig into his shoulders and bring a little wince of pain. He is intoxicating.

“ _Bâtard suffisant,”_ he grumbles. 

George hums tenderly, pressing his cheek to Gilbert’s who leans into it, not unlike a cat would. Then, he places his hands underneath his soft, but not too soft, thighs and slightly raises him closer to the head of his cock. Lafayette’s breath hitches and he clutches tighter to his shoulders in anticipation. George can hear his rapid breaths in his ear and for a moment ponders just why and how a creature like him breathes. And then he thrusts and drives up into him with as much strength as he can manage, continuing the brutal rhythm.

Gilbert whines and cries out with each thrust, his hips working in tandem with George, chasing him down and leaving burning scratches down his back with his sharp fingernails. Lafayette’s hands wrap around the back of his neck and pull him all the way down until George lays on top of him, readjusting in the new position.

“I like this better,” he sighs, wiggling his hips and making George choke on his own spit at the feeling. George is shamefully aware that he will not last long. 

He lowers himself onto his elbows so he can be closer to Gilbert and his intoxicating, cool skin.

“Really?” A smirk curls his lips as he lowers one hand to brush his thumb over Lafayette’s hipbone. The man’s breath hitches. “And how do you know this?” Arching an eyebrow, George questions him in that dark, low tone that demands Lafayette’s full compliance, and it is given so easily. Sighing greatly, Lafayette parts his legs and stares at him with eyes so expansive and dark there is no room for light.

There is a moment where George cannot help but wonder if he is dreaming. Surely, no one as gorgeous as Lafayette would enjoy being beneath him, unsure and inexperienced as he was, and would make such a sinfully captivating image just for _him_. He lowers himself off his elbow so he is resting against Lafayette, pressed against him and raising his knees so he may support himself there and shift Gilbert’s hips to meet him. Even if Lafayette may not enjoy the way George carefully arranges them, he only wants to ensure he will make Gilbert feel at least a fraction of the overwhelming bliss he has already gifted George.

A second passes. Then two, before George is pounding his hips and jostling Gilbert against the sheets. A cry rips out of George’s throat, the perfect accompaniment to Lafayette’s breathy, staccato cries. 

There is no time to savor every piece of Lafayette like he desires to. There are only bursts of sensations, muddling together to form heaven of the body. There is the way that Gilbert’s hole grips him, so tight and hot, so perfectly dizzying, that it nearly ends him every time he feels Lafayette clench around him. There are the _sounds:_ The perfect mix of loud, needy, and breathless that is so exhilarating that George knows he will never forget the way Lafayette sings for him. There are his _hands_ , now moved to grip at his ribs, circle around his back, and dig in with stinging nails every time George finds the place that forces Gilbert to shiver in delight. 

Gilbert begins to chant his name rapidly, his hands reaching up to grab his face. “It is-” his lips part and another gorgeous sound escapes, which ends with his lower lip trembling. “There, _George,_ it is- ah!” 

His fangs clamp down on his neck and bite harshly into the skin. Lafayette moans and moans, thrashing and rolling his hips in perfect sync with George. The vampire, beautiful, tender, _perfect_ , takes one long gulp that forces fire and charged sparks into his veins and, with the swallow, takes the last bit of hesitation he did not realize he had been clinging to. He spills into Gilbert, groaning the loudest he ever has upon finishing while the sparks pop and fizzle out of him. His hips are stuttering, and he hears Lafayette whimpering with each thrust, but he cannot find the strength to cease the movement until the last wave eases over him and the fire burns out.

He slumps down with a light thud against Gilbert, blinking tears away from his eyes. When was the last time he cried during sex? Gilbert’s arms wrap around George so the cold palms can gently soothe down his spine and work up to his shoulder blades, then back down again in a soothing motion.

George presses his face against Lafayette’s neck and simply rests there, inhaling his scent, so uniquely and perfectly the man that has stolen his last bit of rationality. Gilbert hums and carefully drags his calloused fingertips up his back, leaving a trail of goosebumps. And the realization hits George. 

He wishes to stay here forever.

In Gilbert’s embrace, able to feel his smooth skin, able to hear his steady breathing and feel his hands running along and soothing his sweaty and hot skin. There is a lump in his throat and a tickling feeling in his chest. It seemed that somehow Lafayette has found a home in his heart. He isn’t sure how it happened so quickly, or _when_ it happened, but it is here. And George is paralyzed. 

Gilbert lets out a long sigh of discontent that catches his attention. “George,” he begins in a soft and serious tone that was unfamiliar from Gilbert. George raises himself off of Lafayette to get a better look at his face, but his eyes are fixed to something in the distance. “I have not been completely honest with you.” And his eyes flick down.

“What?” George shifts, unsure if he should move closer or back away.

Lafayette takes a deep breath, “Gilbert du motier, _marquis_ de Lafayette,” he emphasizes.

“What?” George repeats, and Lafayette turns away and sits on the edge of the bed so that George is not able to see his face.

“This is not my home. I won’t be here for much longer,” he mumbles, discontent dripping from every word.

“Lafayette, wait, what do you mean?” George reaches out to grab his arm but Lafayette gently brushes it off.

“I’ll be returning to France soon, there is only so long I can stay in the colonies,” he mutters under his breath.

“Then, what are you doing here in the first place?” George can’t help but ask, head suddenly swimming with thoughts at the realization. A _marquis_. A vampire marquis. Is such a thing legal?

Lafayette shrugs, “It’s something new, I suppose. But there is only so long I can play until France demands my attention. And before you ask because I can practically _hear_ it,” he giggles, “they know that I’m a vampire and how I sustain myself, but it’s a much better practice than killing innocents. Although, they sometimes like to use me for executions,” he hums.

“They- _what?_ ” George gasps, coming closer and resting his chin on Lafayette’s shoulder. Lafayette chuckles again and it’s chased by a warm feeling in George’s chest.

“It’s never my idea, but it seems to scare some folks so it’s something they have me do from time to time.” George laughs and Gilbert turns around to look at him, smiling at him with amusement. He slips his hand under Lafayette’s chin and leans forward to kiss him gently. 

They both shift to press their knees together and face each other fully so that George can kiss Lafayette’s soft lips deeply and with much more feeling while wrapping his arms around his lower back.

It is not their first kiss. George is not sure why he can’t seem to remember this as Gilbert tenderly kisses his lips with slow affection, making drawn-out kissing sounds. His tongue presses past and languidly curls against his own tongue and mouth. It all leaves him feeling a certain kind of breathless, one he is unfamiliar with. The type of breathless that appears because something else is filling his lungs and chest and doesn't allow room for air. But he is breathing just fine.

Lafayette pulls away and looks at him with wide, shimmering eyes full of emotion and years of wisdom that George could not begin to comprehend.

“Will I see you again?” As much as the answer might pain him, bring sorrow to his heart, George knows that he will never sleep if he does not know the truth. 

Lafayette grins and looks up at him, devilishness marring his smile. “You will,” he states it like it's the simplest thing in the world. George sighs in relief, a smile tugging on his lips. 

The impish grin tumbles and Lafayette slumps forward, planting his face against George’s chest. The sudden change in his demeanor makes George grasp his back and pull him tighter, convey the depth of his feeling. “Will you be alright while I’m gone?” the words are mumbled against his chest so quietly George almost can’t make it out.

“Why are you asking me this?”

A bright chuckle bubbles from his chest as Lafayette raises his head to look at him. “You almost went completely mad when I did not visit you for two weeks.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” he smiles softly, unable to feel panic when he is with Gilbert like this. Lafayette hums and then he is suddenly scrambling off the bed, leaving George alone. Clattering starts from the kitchen and George whips his head around when Lafayette begins to speak behind him.

“I have heard of a solution to help with the craving if you don’t wish to go to someone else,” he begins, but George is horrified to see him brandishing a knife and holding a glass jar.

“Gilbert, what are you doing?” he panics.

“Hm? Oh, drawing my blood for you of course,” he states, examining the knife and twirling it in his fingers as if he is lost in thought. 

“But- _why?_ ”

Gilbert looks up. “I just told you, didn’t I?” And George watches with rapt curiosity as Lafayette brings his wrist up to his mouth to sink his fangs into the skin there with an intent to draw as much blood as possible. It is almost as black as night and grotesquely thin as it quickly flows and pools into the jar he holds just beneath his bleeding wrist. The blood flow begins to slow and Gilbert sets the half-full jar down and brings the knife to his wrist to slice even deeper into the wound and bring that rapid flow back. He quickly retrieves the jar again before his blood can stain the floors.

It almost makes George wretch. Once the jar is full, Lafayette mashes the cork inside and hands it to him. George hesitates in taking it and is surprised and a little horrified to feel some warmth emanating from it. He takes it from Gilbert.

“What am I to do with this?” He looks up, still sitting on the bed while Gilbert hovers over him.

“Drink it.”

“No- Gilbert, absolutely not. That is- why that is-”

“It’ll help, George,” Lafayette sighs, insists while moving to sit down on the bed and rest his head on George’s shoulder. He feels that unnameable breath-taking and tingly sensation in his chest. “Just a drop or two is all you need. Or so I’ve heard. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help.” Gilbert begins to stroke his thigh.

George slings his arm over Gilbert’s shoulder and presses a quick kiss to his temple. “I will try it,” he promises, Lafayette’s quiet insistence making him understand that he is serious and that he cares. George can only vaguely understand the significance of a vampire generously donating their blood, and the realization that Gilbert has done so just for him causes a lump to form in his throat.

Lafayette nuzzles at his side. “And if you need me, go to where we met and talk to the man who calls himself Phocian. He’ll help you with whatever you need, even help you reach me. Will you remember this?”

He pulls Lafayette a little closer to him before sighing, “I will.” He glances at Lafayette. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, you look… quite filthy.” Lafayette’s chuckle crescendos to a full jovial laugh.

“And you are the one who made me this way. I expect to be cleaned properly,” he smirks and there is that glint of danger in his eye George has learned can only mean trouble ahead.

There is really no use bending Gilbert to his will all the time, he thinks fondly. In fact, perhaps, it might be enjoyable to find their own unique balance of push and pull one day.

“I will do just that, sir,” George purrs. Gilbert gasps, his pupils blown, as George throws him onto his back and begins to trace wet paths on his skin and lap up his release in the most despicable, filthy display. He didn’t know he is capable of performing such an act, but Lafayette’s gasps and little whimpers make it all worth it in the end. 

George has been hopelessly ensnared by this vampire, and he knows it will stay that way until he takes his final breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [SilverDragonoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDragonoid/pseuds/Theodosia%20Tallmadge) for beta-reading this!!
> 
> My [tumblr!](https://jacepens.tumblr.com/)


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